Meanwhile, Back in the Alpha Quadrant

[Cptn Corizon 0]

The stars streaming past on the viewscreen slowed suddenly. The man in the center seat looked up expectantly. Outside, the sleek lines of a Soverign class battleship were flanked by two Norway-class frigates and an Akira class cruiser.

 

Turning back from her console, the operations officer addressed him swiftly. "Entering the Melkas system now, Admiral," she announced, looking at the readings. "Melkas III in four minutes."

 

The man in the center seat nodded, an ear cocked to one side. "Signal the fleet, all weapons on stand by."

 

Behind him his tactical officer continued eying the readings before him, "Still no sign of the attackers on long range scanners...or the Agincourt."

 

"Fleet reports weapons on standby. No readings coming in from the other ships that are getting anything we aren't." Odd, the Orion thought, that ships could disappear that easily with so little information being available for further investigation.

 

Rear Admiral Ah-Windu Corizon stroked very carefully at his non-existent beard. His yellow eyes darted across the screen as he gave the situation a careful analysis. Standing, he walked slowly foreward from the command hub towards the front of the bridge. "How long until we have visual?"

 

Laarell glanced at the chrono again. "Two and a half minutes. Not that it will necessary aid us overmuch..." her voice trailed off.

 

"Damn," Corizon said, a growl forming in his throat. "What about the Gideon?"

 

"Nothing concrete," she paused, glancing at the sensor readings. "I'm reading debris that matches the remains of a Federation vessel. It could posisbly be the remains of Gideon."

 

Closing his eyes for a moment, Corizon repressed an inner urge. "And no sign of the attackers?

 

The tactical officer shook his head, "None."

 

Returning to his seat, the lankish commanding officer sighed deeply. This brought back all to many unpleasant memories. The black parade was starting once more. "You'd think," he said looking directly towards his operations officer, "that we'd seen enough of this sort of thing for one lifetime."

 

"You would think," she concurred, with a sigh. "We seem to be stuck in a recurring cycle here," she said, frowning at the readout of the debris field. "It'd be nice to break out of it one of these days." Wishful thinking -- what bliss.

 

"Stand down red alert," he said softly. "Signal the fleet to begin a search pattern. Let's start trying to piece together what happened here. And get me the colony on a secure line in my ready room..."

 

~

 

“Thank you, Governor...”

 

The screen on the desk blinked and faded to the all to familiar logo of the Starfleet before fading entirely into darkness. Suddenly finding himself looking into a mirror, Corizon fluttered his eyes. Age had finally begun to wear upon his face.

 

Age and war. He'd spent nearly his entire life in the Fleet, and nearly all of that had been spent in one war or the other. If he wasn't fighting Cardassians, then he was fighting Dominion, and if wasn't fighting them, then it was the Hundred, or the Al-Ucardians, or the Scorpiads, or the Tal'Shiar.

 

Sighing he shook the thoughts of discarded dreams from his mind and returned to the present. The subtle chime at his door was certainly a welcome distraction. “Enter.”

 

Entering the room, walking in measured steps was what appeared to be a younger version of the veteran Admiral. Tall, lanky and carrying himself with great pride, Captain Sheng-Ji Marish approached Corizon's desk. A few steps behind him walked a Bajoran marine. Something about him was familiar to Corizon, but he couldn't place it. He assumed, by the rank pip he wore, that he was the Captain's head jarhead.

 

“Admiral,” the Captain said neutrally.

 

“Have a seat Sheng-Ji.”

 

Marish took his seat opposite the Captain, while the Marine stood loosely at attention. “What were you able to learn from the colonial authorities?”

 

“Oh,” Corizon said with a rare grin, “that the planet was attacked by an unknown alien force and the Agincourt, aided by the Gideon managed to drive them off...”

 

“But not before the Gideon was destroyed,” Sheng-Ji continued. “But of the Agincourt?”

 

“Now there's the million bars of latnium question,” Corizon said leaning back into his seat. “They're getting us the sensor records now, but apparently the attacking vessels created some sort of vortex and were able to escape through it...the same way they came.”

 

“Let me guess,” the Lt.Colonel chimed in, “The 'Court followed them when they made a run for it.”

 

Corizon nodded, a little surprised at the Bajoran. Sheng-Ji smiled ever slightly, just enough to let a fanged grin cross his face. “Admiral, I'd like to introduce you to my Marine Commander, Lt. Colonel Korix Vaos.”

 

Studying the Bajoran for a moment, Corizon suddenly realized where he knew the face from, and the name sealed it. “I think we met...once.”

 

Korix nodded, “Yes I think so...it was a fairly brief encounter though.”

 

“I assume though there's a reason you knew that the Agincourt followed the attackers, though?” Corizon's question was pointed, but not sharp. It was more out of curiosity than anything else.

 

Subconsciously straightening his uniform Korix dipped his head slightly. “I served aboard her a while back,” his voice was measured, as though he wasn't entirely comfortable with the subject. “She's got a great crew...”

 

“So I hear,” Corizon said distantly. Subconsciously his mind was working too. The Agincourt did have a fine crew, and a find command staff. He didn't know much about Davies, but her XO...her he knew.

 

Korix and Marish continued to talk, but Corizon wasn't paying the utmost attention, his thoughts turned to the first time he ever met Charlotte Harper.

 

A lone figure stood in the corner of the bar, yellow eyes examining the officer sitting down for a drink. She'd just come into the bar, a typical place for an officer who'd just finished a tour of duty.

 

Charlie Harper settled down at the end of the long bar, nodding slightly at the bartender when he made eye contact. A minute later, she had a snifter of Saurian brandy in front of her, and the privacy to drink it without chatter. Although no orders had been cut yet, she knew her tour on the Kyushu was almost over. The promotion to Lieutenant Major sealed it -- there wasn't really room for another major in the 72nd. She wasn't sure she was ready to leave yet.

 

Moving through the shadows, he crept silently. Stealth had its advantages. Coming from behind, he placed a clawed finger on Harper's shoulder. "Lieutenant Major Charlotte Harper," it wasn't a question.

 

The touch of something sharp on her shoulder was nearly enough to make her thrust an elbow back sharply; she caught herself just before she would have struck whomever had sneaked up behind her. Federation starbase, she reminded herself firmly. Turning, she looked up at a man with a decidedly canine appearance, right down to the ears. He wore a Starfleet uniform, like many of the bar's patrons. "And you are?" she asked, belatedly adding, "sir," as her eyes landed on his captain's pips.

 

"Captain Ah-Windu Corizon," He said lowly, as if he didn't want it heard, the ears twitching slightly to either side. "I have orders for you to come with me."

 

She bristled. "What is this about, Captain?"

 

Flipping an ear back, he shook his head. "Not here," he said firmly. "Now, if you'll follow me."

 

Her eyes narrowed, but as she had no good reason to refuse, she stood and allowed him to lead her away from the bar.

 

Leading her through the civilian section, and into the administrative wing, they found themselves in a small, Spartan office with little more than a few chairs and a desk. "Have a seat."

 

She remained standing. Folding her arms, she said, "With all due respect, Captain, I'd like to know what this is about."

 

"I am sure you do," he said making his way to the replicator. "Would you like something to drink?"

 

What she wanted was the Saurian brandy abandoned in the bar, but she had a feeling that alcohol was not a good idea at the moment. "I had something to drink," she pointed out, but grudgingly requested a Bolian tonic water.

 

Returning with a bottle of Saurian brandy, he placed it on the table. "I hear you've earned that."

 

"Thank you.” Marginally mollified, she sat down. "I still want that explanation."

 

"In good time," he sat down in a chair across from her. "I understand you were recently promoted?"

 

She turned the snifter in her hands. "Am I supposed to be impressed that you've read my service record, Captain?"

 

"I'd hope not," he smirked, showing his fangs for the first time.

 

She studied him for a long moment. "Can we cut the chit-chat? Clearly you know a good deal about me, probably more than what's in my files. I don't know you from Adam, but you've evidently got something important to talk about.”

 

There was a reason she'd been chosen. "You're a quick one, I like that."

 

"You have no idea how thrilled I am to hear that," she replied flatly.

 

As if making a mental note, "Sense of humor could use some work," he smirked. "I guess that's why she's a marine..."

 

Harper sipped her brandy and waited, patiently.

 

Tapping a claw on the desk, letting the sound echo across the bare walls, he looked her over a few times. "Major, I am going to be straightforward with you..."

 

Finally, she thought, but said nothing, merely putting her eyebrows up expectantly.

 

"I have some orders for you," he said, producing a PADD, "but I don't get to tell you where they're coming from... Now you can walk away now, and never see me again...or you can take them...your choice...I'll even let you keep the bottle of Brandy."

 

"Why me?" she asked, eyes on the PADD in his hand. What sort of mission he was talking about was evident, but she hadn't done any covert work. Nor, indeed, ever expressed interest in doing so.

 

"I am afraid I am not completely at liberty to discuss that," he gave her a sly look, "but I think you know, you wouldn't be here if we didn't think you had the right stuff."

 

"Do I at least get a hint as to what the mission entails?" she asked, repressing a sigh.

 

He handed her the PADD. "That’s all I am allowed to tell you.” Corizon obviously knew much more than he was letting on. He'd spent the better part of his adult life, and Starfleet career in the organization that was recruiting the young Lieutenant Major.

 

Setting down the snifter with a quiet, precise click, she accepted the PADD. A murmured apology to her host, and she was absorbed in the information on the screen. At last she looked up at Corizon. "You realize I've never done anything like this before.” It was not a question.

 

A confirming nod, "Yes I do, but everyone starts somewhere."

 

She tapped the corner of the PADD against her thigh restlessly. "Say I accept... and say I can pull this off." She flapped the PADD at him once, then returned to the rhythmic tapping. "What happens after?"

 

Glancing at her, "Then you'll have another choice to make."

 

"That being?” She arched a brow.

 

"I think you know what choice that is," he gave her a look. "You're smart...even for a jarhead."

 

She gave him a flat look. "Are we talking about a career? Because I don't think I'd care for this sort of randomly appearing assignment interrupting my life."

 

Bristling, he gave her a look. "Yes...career..."

 

She tipped the PADD to read it through again, considering. "And... if I refuse the assignment?"

 

"Then you walk out that door, no strings or questions asked."

 

Blinking, he realized that both Vaos and Marish were no longer in the room, apparently he'd been on autopilot the whole time, paying just enough attention to them to keep them from realizing he wasn't paying any attention to them at all. Either that or they'd realized he was off in la-la land daydreaming about past events. Not entirely sure of how much time had actually passed he glanced towards the chrono on his sparsely decorated desk.

 

It had been much longer than he'd anticipated, that much was certain. He stood and walked towards the window gazing into space.

 

~

 

Standing once more at his window, as if time had stood still, Corizon sighed. It had been nearly 48-hours since the crew of the Agincourt, and apparently most of the crew of the Gideon, had gone missing. Two more ships had joined the small fleet under his flag, and they were tearing the system apart, but there was no sign of the Agincourt.

 

The wreckage of the Gideon, on the other hand, was being collected piece by piece and analyzed. As were fragments that appeared to have come from one of the attacking vessels. That was likely the best hope for finding out exactly what was going on here. Something though told the Dameon that it wasn't good.

 

A call at the door caused his ears to rise slightly before he said enter lightly.

 

“Admiral,” it was the voice of Toramon Komarzad. “We have some of the results from the analysis of the wreckage and of the sensor readouts.”

 

“Go ahead...”

 

Komarzad nodded to Corizon's back and looked down to the PADD in his hands. “First, we've been able to determine that the Gideon was destroyed by damage in the firefight, but we're still trying to determine the type of weapons the raiders were using.”

 

“And the wreckage of the raiders?”

 

“It's not like anything we've ever seen.”

 

“Oh?” Corizon said turning around.

 

“There aren't any matches in the database at all,” the Trill security officer said resignedly. “We're looking at a first contact situation here.”

 

Corizon nodded, mentally filing the information away. He'd seen the sensor records himself, and had examined them at some length. When the reports first came out that the ships seemed to be based on some sort of organic technology, his heart skipped more than a few beats. His fears were allayed though after watching the records.

 

“And the vortex?”

 

Komarzad scratched at his head for a moment, “Well science isn't completely sure. They're working with the other ships on it, but as near they can figure it’s some sort of subspace tear.”

 

A wave of nausea and annoyance, followed by anxiety washed over Corizon. “Then the Agincourt isn't going to be found anytime soon.”

 

“That's what the scientific opinion seems to be right now, sir.”

 

“And the origin of the attackers?”

 

“Unknown, but likely not from our section of the galaxy”

 

Corizon shook his head, rolling his eyes. Lifting a brow Komarzad went out on a limb. “Something wrong Admiral?”

 

“Three. Count'em. Three times now I've been the guy who has to deal with alien invaders from another quadrant who want to take over ours.”

 

Komarzad stifled a small laugh. “Well, Admiral,” he replied, continuing to bite back a smirk, “we have to have someone that's always on call to save the galaxy from Imminent Peril.”

 

“You'd think I would have burned off enough karma now to not get stuck with this kind of thing...again,” Corizon continued, ignoring Komarzad's comment. “I swear, the next time they report an unknown attacker and want me to go investigate...I am going back to bed.”

 

“Yes, sir.” Komarzad couldn't hide the grin any longer, “I'll be sure and remind you of that next time.”

 

~

 

The lounge was quiet; it was past midnight and only a few stragglers were even up, save for the poor souls who'd drawn delta shift rotation. Ah-Windu Corizon sat alone at the bar, a snifter of Saurian brandy in his hand, another full, yet untouched, snifter setting alone beside him.

 

“Agincourt,” he said to himself, “You've got Medusa with you...I hope that's enough.”

 

He put the snifter to his lips, letting the liquid flow down his throat as the memories of the last time he saw Charlotte Harper entered his mind.

 

A lone figure stood in the corner of the bar, yellow eyes examining the officer sitting down for a drink. She'd just come into the bar, a typical place for a professor who'd just finished a tour of her students work.

 

Charlie Harper settled down at the end of the long bar, nodding slightly at the bartender when he made eye contact. A minute later, she had a snifter of Saurian brandy in front of her, and the privacy to drink it without chatter. Although no orders had been cut yet, she knew her exile to academia was almost over. The communiqué from the Utopia shipyards sealed it -- they were eager for another Marine perspective on the project. She was more than ready to leave.

 

Moving through the shadows, he crept silently. Stealth had its advantages. Coming from behind, he placed a clawed finger on Harper's shoulder. "Lt. Colonel Charlotte Harper," it wasn't a question.

 

The touch of something sharp on her shoulder was nearly enough to make her thrust an elbow back sharply; she caught herself just before she would have struck whomever had snuck up behind her. Starfleet Headquarters, she reminded herself firmly, as recognition of the voice filtered in. Turning, she looked up at a man with a decidedly canine appearance, right down to the ears. He wore a Starfleet uniform, like the rest of the bar's patrons. "Captain Ah-Windu Corizon," she said neutrally. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

 

"I have orders to buy you a drink." He said stoically, the ears twitching slightly to either side. "But it appears you already have one."

 

A slight smile curved her lips. "You can buy the next round." She motioned him to the chair beside her.

 

He took a seat and called the bar keep for a drink of his own--Anarian Whiskey. "I hear your exile on Elba's almost over."

 

"Hardly an auspicious metaphor, Captain," she replied dryly, sipping her brandy. "But I'm impressed. Your information network is formidable."

 

"I suppose," he smiled widely, showing his fangs as he brought his own drink up. "I have a few friends in the right places."

 

Charlie grinned. "You always did."

 

"So, they tell you which ship you'll be on yet?"

 

That got a laugh. "Ah, it seems your network is slipping at last," she answered. "I'm still stuck dirtside; I'm just transferring to the Prometheus Project. Marine Liason, or whatever title they think up for it."

 

The yellow eyes danced across the bar. Corizon either knew more than he was letting on, or his network was slipping, either way it didn't show. "Ah, I see. They've got me so busy teaching these younglings about how to aim a phaser I don't have enough time to keep up with what they're up to these days."

 

"Please tell me yours are doing better than mine, then," Harper said fervently. "Or I'll have to start avoiding every armed ensign I see."

 

"They finally figured out that if you press the green button, it goes boom." He made an illustration with his hands. "And that was their final."

 

She took a large sip of her drink. "The frightening part is, I'm not entirely certain you're joking."

 

"Now you know how I felt when you were a cadet.."

 

Toying idly with her half-empty glass, she said, "I don't remember being that young."

 

"Your generation didn't have time to be young," he said reflectively. "Too much war in your lifetimes."

 

She mulled that over for a while. "No more than yours, really."

 

He laughed softly, "The woman has a point..."

 

After a long silence, Corizon looked at the officer setting beside him. "Looking forward to being out in space again?"

 

"Odd, isn't it? For a ground-pounder, I mean."

 

"Just a bit."

 

"I just..." She sighed, and tossed back the rest of her drink. "I feel useless here."

 

"It's understandable," he said, finishing his own drink, "You're a soldier. You were trained to fight."

 

A shudder passed through her, and she raised a hand to signal the bartender for a refill. "I've seen enough fighting," she said frankly. "I want to help keep the peace."

 

"There was a motto on the first ship I served on for any amount of time,” he said as he ordered their next drinks. "We seek peace by the sword, but peace only under liberty.”

 

"A good one," she agreed, as the bartender filled their glasses. "Here's to peace, then."

 

"To peace." He clicked his glass gently against hers.

 

Setting down the empty snifter he took up the second one, looking at it very carefully. Peace. The last two years had been such a dramatic change from the prior 15 years. Almost enough to make Corizon forget how much death and destruction soldiers like he and Harper had seen. But days like today reminded him otherwise. He raised the glass once more.

 

“To Peace,” he said softly. “And to the Agincourt...may you find your way home through the wilderness unharmed.”